The Virtue of Deceit
by Child of the Ashes
Summary: Dealing with Ichigo's hollow never gets easier with practice.


**Title: The Virtue of Deceit -2**

**Warnings: Random. So very random. Lime-ish.**

**Authorial Notice:**

**Been a little short of time this week, so this only had one read through… There's probably lots of typos. Please overlook them. :)**

**This was supposed to be a sequel to chapter five of Fools Rush In for my dearest Ero-Chibi-Suly-Sama, but alas, I think I failed. :( But if you're interested to know what's happened up to this point, that's where it can be found. Cheers. **

()()()

Part 2

Orihime sighed, shoes scuffing through grass as she made her way to the place the girls usually ate.

She was exhausted. Even after three days, her entire body ached, and in areas she was tired of telling herself not to think about. But that was her plan. And the only one she had at the moment. She was just going to swear off thinking altogether, and well, that would be that.

Right? _Right_.

Orihime's shoulders slumped.

Pulling the strap of her bag back up, she paused midstride, seeing the shady place under the trees curiously void of female classmates.

She sighed again in defeat, adding a yawn. Everyone was so busy lately.

"Inoue?"

Starting at the unexpected call, Orihime stumbled a bit before righting herself and turning to see the person she'd been hoping to elude.

Kurosaki-kun.

And he was…

_Shirtless_.

Her eyes widened and her heart slammed hard enough in her chest her body swayed.

Skin. Sun-bronzed, glowing, slick with perspiration. He took in deep breaths, strong shoulders rising and falling. A shimmering drop of sweat slid along the tendons in his neck, touching his collarbone and picking up speed to fall down a well-cut chest.

Orihime swallowed. Or tried to. Her tongue felt heavy and sluggish.

Oh, she was bad. Very, very bad.

She was right to have avoided him.

Heat unfurled in her blood, hot and dizzying, and she shivered with the suffused warmth. Flashes from that night with the hollow shadowed her vision. Strong hands and golden eyes, teeth scraping over flesh, that vicious smile as he—

"Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

An inarticulate squeak worked its way from her throat before she nodded her head, then registering the last question, decided to shake it instead, dazed as a disarray of feelings tumbled through her like leaves caught in a gale.

It was the first time she had seen him since the hollow had cornered her at the bakery. And without knowing how to deal with the situation, she'd thought the safest approach would be to stay away altogether. At least, until her emotions had settled enough to think up a better course of action.

But would he know what happened? There was no telling how much he would remember. Should she tell him?

"I…" Orihime struggled to quell the irrational urge to flee. "I-I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

Wetting her lips, she watched as he went still, eyes narrowing, following the path of her tongue.

He swallowed, blinking before jerking his gaze back to hers.

"Then…" He swallowed again. "What are you doing here?"

She liked the breathy way he said that. The weight of implication. Like there just _wasn't_ anyone else she would go to. No other logical place to turn.

But something was _wrong_.

Off.

Tilting her head, she worked to focus lazy thoughts, and as they collected into a semblance of order, stunned shock was her only answer.

She straightened as the pounding of running feet filled her ears. Looking beyond Ichigo's shoulder, she saw the boy's class sprinting back and forth across the field.

Orihime tilted her head. "Why are they having you run during lunch?"

"This isn't lunch, Inoue."

Looking back at Ichigo, she saw his brow furrowed under ruffled, wet bangs, lips pressing into a frown.

"It… It isn't?"

He shook his head, openly assessing her.

Honestly, she was surprised. If it wasn't lunch time, that meant…

"Inoue… Did you walk out of class?" His brow slowly relaxed, a small smile creeping up to replace his frown. "In the middle of it?"

_Had she?_

Heat flared into her cheeks and her shoulders hunched with mortification.

Orihime remembered packing up her things… and opening the door... She couldn't remember the teacher dismissing them, but that wasn't strange. She went places all the time without remembering how she'd gotten there. But her preoccupation the last several days far exceeded average. Even for her.

Most of it was nothing more than a blur.

Walking out of class was much worse than just her usual spacing out. Had the entire class watched her leave?

_How embarrassing._

"You're really distracted, huh?"

"I… I suppose so… I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize to me." His smile widened. "You're not cutting _my_ class."

Orihime frowned. "Don't say it like that, Kurosaki-kun. You make me sound like a delinquent…"

"Kurosaki! Five extra laps for slacking off!"

Blinking, Orihime looked back to see Kagine-sensei, hands on his waist, looking irritated. Ichigo's scowl turned thunderous.

"Huh? I got you in trouble."

"Don't worry about it. He's always thinking up stupid things to punish us for."

She smiled at his irritated tone and glanced up only to freeze, heart stalling in her chest.

The calculating look was back. The same steady, burning gaze that matched his hollow's vivid stare. He studied her from under heavy lashes, and it made her entirely too aware of him. Her mouth went dry as a shiver worked up her spine.

Then, he seemed to shake himself. "You'd better get back before you get detention."

She scrunched her nose, because he was right. She was probably going to get cleaning detail.

"Hey," Ichigo called as she moved to leave, eyes narrowing, seeming to contemplate saying something.

He finally looked away.

"Kurosaki-kun?"

He shook his head. "Be careful."

()()()

Orihime, having survived the humiliation of returning to class, sat under the tree, puzzling over Ichigo's words and the fact that he didn't seem to remember anything about what had happened with his hollow.

It shouldn't have been too surprising, she supposed, it had been that way before. But still, it confused her. They shared a soul. And she was certain, by the hollow's own words, that he was at least somewhat aware of Ichigo's thoughts and actions. So why wasn't that a two way street?

Although, to be fair, if she'd had a terrible inner hollow that was hell-bent on violence and destruction, she would probably try her hardest to push it back and ignore it, too.

Setting her food aside, Orihime swallowed the bite she'd been working on and turned to look for the other girls.

She didn't see any of them. Not even Tatsuki.

Maybe it was time to stop dodging Ichigo. She could always go eat on the roof, the others wouldn't mind…

But even as she contemplated it, she knew she wouldn't.

She didn't blame Ichigo for what happened. The things his hollow had contrived. Far from it. It had been… Well, it had been _not_ terrible.

He'd shocked her at first, definitely, but after the shock wore off, after he took her back to her apartment… Things started to get muddled from there. But she couldn't lie. There was some deep facet of her soul that desperately craved attention from any part of Ichigo that was willing to give it to her. Even, much to her shame, his darker half.

And knowing that made it hard to face him.

Orihime shouldn't have enjoyed what took place. It was wrong. But there were parts of it she _had_ enjoyed. Not that the hollow had given her a choice, but still, it felt like she was expressly plotting with the him to keep Ichigo in the dark. That was unforgivable.

Turning her head away, Orihime jumped when she saw Kisumi Terasawa standing on the front stairs and shrank back as the girl started toward her. Orihime's mouth opened, lips parting without sound while her heart picked up speed.

Kisumi was the other person she'd hoped to avoid. But since she knew Orihime had seen her already, she could hardly snatch up her things and run.

Orihime shifted, packing her remaining lunch and standing with a bright smile, trying not to appear terribly nervous.

"H-Hello, Kisumi-chan…"

The overwhelming self-assurance Kisumi held as she advanced made Orihime take a step back before she could catch herself.

Kisumi was pretty and very popular among male students. Her clothing was always neatly pressed, her rust-colored hair shining, and shoulder bearing only the newest and most expensive bags. Kisumi didn't stumble like Orihime would have. She didn't stutter or flail. And she never, to Orihime's knowledge, walked out of a class in the middle of it.

Orihime dug her toes down inside her shoes and waited while Kisumi skimmed over her appearance, pushing a long, curling length of deep red hair over her shoulder as Orihime struggled not to fidget.

"Hello, Orihime-chan."

"Is there something you needed t-to talk to me about?"

"You heard, didn't you?"

"I…" She licked her lips. "I know what happened. I'm sorry things didn't work out. I—"

"I should have known he'd tell you. Did he say anything about me?"

Orihime shook her head, words clogged in her throat at the scorn in Kisumi's eyes. Then it vanished, replaced with a pained expression. Tears appeared and Orihime took a startled breath, guilt prickling at her harsh judgment.

Kisumi hadn't been sneering, she was simply trying not to cry.

Orihime clenched a fist into her skirt.

What kind of person was she turning into? First, sleeping with Ichigo's hollow and now, harboring dreadful thoughts about her friends?

"I just don't know what went wrong," Kisumi sobbed into her hands. "I thought he liked me… but halfway to the restaurant, he just turned around and said it wasn't going to work. W-What did I do?"

Orihime drew a deep breath before her body moved on autopilot, wrapping her arms around shaking shoulders. "I'm sure you didn't do anything wrong, Kisumi-chan. Kurosaki-kun hasn't dated much, maybe he got nervous. Please, don't cry…"

"It's not only that. He looks at me and it's like, I don't know… like he's looking through me or something. He couldn't remember anything I said, and then he scowled the entire time. He hated everything I did—"

Orihime laughed, then bit her lip, shaking her head when Kisumi pulled back to fix her with a sullen glower.

"Oh, Kisumi-chan. Kurosaki-kun looks at everyone that way. It's just his normal expression. It's funny, isn't it?"

"That's not true." She frowned, pulling from the embrace. "He doesn't look at you that way."

Pain lanced Orihime's chest, stealing her voice.

Kisumi's eyes narrowed. "You and Kurosaki are… friends, right?"

"I… Y-yes..."

She watched, numb as Kisumi grasped her arm and stepped close.

"He's been avoiding me when I try, but you could say something to him. You could talk me up. Tell him I could make things worth it. He'd listen to you. I know he would."

Orihime couldn't control her wince, but tried to cover it. "I don't know, Kisumi-chan… I don't feel very comfortable doing that."

Kisumi released her and took a step back. "You just want him for yourself."

"That isn't—"

"I thought we were friends. You were supposed to be someone that _cared_. If you knew how bad this feels to like someone so much, and then just be _thrown aside_… But whatever, maybe if I had a body like yours, Kurosaki would smile at me, too."

"That's not— _it isn't_…"

Kisumi was already stomping away, leaving Orihime standing alone to stare after her.

Her mind spun, struggling to come to terms with the past few minute's conversation. The way Kisumi made it sound… Like she was trying to steal Kurosaki-kun away.

But to be fair, Kisumi was upset. Later after she calmed, she would see how silly it was and maybe they could try to talk then. She hoped so.

Still dazed, Orihime picked up her bag, straightening when she felt a prickle at the back of her neck. She looked up in time to see Ichigo push away from the railing of the roof. And even though she couldn't see it, the faint echo of a door slammed behind him.

()()()

Gathering her things after the next class finished, Orihime stuffed books into her bag with half-hearted motions while Kisumi's words continued to ring inside her ears.

Harsh though they were, she couldn't help but wonder how much truth resonated in them.

She _was_ terrible. Standing there watching her cry, knowing all the while what had happened to make Kurosaki-kun leave. How could she do these things to people that were supposed to be her friends? Was this who she was now?

Orihime sighed.

She wanted Tatsuki.

Tatsuki always knew how to explain things so that they made sense. And maybe if Tatsuki-chan promised not to kill Kurosaki-kun, Orihime could tell her what happened. It would be liberating to get it off her chest. To be able to explain her feelings and insecurities, and get some advice.

Although, she hadn't seen Tatsuki since they arrived at school and Orihime had spun a tale about how sick she'd been to miss school the day before. Tatsuki hadn't believed her, of course, but she also had seemed patient about the lie, as if she didn't mind giving Orihime personal space.

But now, Orihime had so much space, she was starting to get lonely.

Orihime stood, heading to the door, so deep in thought that she almost missed Kisumi still lingering alone in the back.

Hesitating, she glanced over her, noting her disordered appearance with a frown. The idea of slipping away quietly sprang to mind before she pushed it back.

"Kisumi-chan?"

The girl jumped, pale face rising to meet Orihime's.

"Kisumi-chan, are you alright? You look—"

"I-I'm fine…"

Kisumi tensed, going pale, hands clenching on the strap to her bag. Orihime hesitated in her flight forward and reached out instead.

"Are you—"

Kisumi flinched, visibly shaking. "Don't! Don't you come near me..." Her eyes darted to the door and back again, but when Orihime turned, no one was there. "I don't know what you guys are into, but… but I won't tell, so _please_… I won't tell…"

Immobilized, Orihime struggled to process the other girl's words. "What are you talking about? What happened?"

She took a step forward.

"No!"

Kisumi lurched back, clutching her things to her chest, backing into a shelf before bolting toward the door, stumbling over a chair and almost smacking straight into the doorframe in her hurry to get away, leaving Orihime dumbfounded.

What was happening today? Was Kisumi in some sort of trouble?

Following slowly, Orihime walked through the halls, mulling over Kisumi's behavior.

It wasn't like her to be so… out of control.

She drifted around a corner and yelped, jerking to a stop as someone stepped around the other side. Flailing, she was grateful for the hand that shot out to steady her as she gripped at her things. And because her day was going too poorly for it to be anyone but Ichigo, put on a smile.

"K-Kurosaki-kun…!"

"Hey, Inoue. You okay?"

"Yes, I'm well, but Kisumi-chan…"

Orihime watched, mystified as the scowl slipped from his face and it went blank, leaving nothing exposed.

"Oh, that…" He shrugged, not meeting her gaze. "It's nothing. Things just didn't work out. Don't worry about it, okay?"

A small smile played at the corner of his mouth and her heart fluttered.

Swallowing, Orihime nodded, unnerved by his expression.

"Alright, Kurosaki-kun."

His hand ruffled her hair as he stepped by, leaving her vision. "Good girl."

Ice crystalized in her veins. "Kuro—"

Fingers slid into her hair, his other arm wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her back into his chest in a not-quite hug.

One that forced the air from her lungs.

"First smart thing you've done in days."

She couldn't move. Dark pressure skimmed over her skin, so slight and unassuming, that if she hadn't been pressed so close, she might not have felt the shift at all.

"You know, I'd swear you were purposely trying to piss me off." He nuzzled the side of her neck. "Avoiding him. Shoving that slut back in his face after all the trouble I went through." He squeezed again and her chest burned with the force. "Being so fucking helpless."

Students shuffled through the halls, occupied with lockers or friends. No one seemed to notice Ichigo hovering over her or else didn't care.

She swallowed. "Please don't do this."

"Do what?" A low chuckle tickled her ear. "Are you afraid I'm going to fuck you right here? Or maybe you're hoping I will."

She tensed.

The hollow slipped away with another laugh, stepping past her frozen form and stalking down the hall, one hand stuffed into a pocket with a natural ease that startled her. He walked through the halls as if the school were his own personal hunting ground. He didn't turn or make sure she was following. Nothing. Just continued along, appearing so much like Ichigo that she felt ill.

But surely, someone would notice—

Orihime gasped as the hollow vanished into the crowd.

She followed, trailing from a safe distance, even though she was certain no guise of empty space would be able to protect her. And she had already seen the result of trying to use her shield. It had been dishearteningly pathetic.

But she couldn't just let him go. He might do anything.

Orihime lost track of him again as he turned down one of the corridors that led toward the gymnasium. She ran to catch up, but by the time she came around the bend, the hallway was empty.

_No.._.

How could she lose him so soon?

She looked over her shoulder to make sure she hadn't missed him right as a hand closed around her wrist and hauled her in to a vacant room.

Orihime chocked on a startled scream, teeth snapping down into her lip with a sharp sting as the door closed behind her.

She spun, twisting to find the hollow, leaning against it.

He shook his head with a wicked smirk. "Stupid girl, you're supposed to run _away_ from the hollow."

It was dark and the only windows in the old-style, cinder block class were at the top of the room. They let in just enough light that she could read the doodles on the chalkboard if she squinted.

Orihime took a deep breath. "Did you do something to Kisumi-chan?"

The smirk evaporated, replaced with narrowed eyes and he clicked his tongue.

"Don't get your feathers ruffled." The hollow advanced, leaving her to fumble backward in an effort to maintain personal space. "King can be thick, but he's not brain dead. If I did anything big, he'd know something was up." He stopped when she ran out of room, bracing an arm beside her head and leaning in. "So, try to say something else to him, sweetheart," A knuckle ran down her throat. "And next time, I'll kill the bitch."

She took a slow, shuddering breath, but otherwise held her tongue as he caught a tendril of hair, eyes cutting into hers, gleaming in the low light.

She shivered. "I-I thought you were trying to help him."

Another smirk.

"Me, help Ichigo? You've got it all wrong, princess. I help _me_. But..." He touched her swollen lip, the one she'd accidently bit. "He's me too, right? Guess it just depends on what day I'm on whichever side of that love-hate line, huh? Decisions, decisions."

Regardless of what he was, regardless of his threatening posture, her body responded to his contact, the heat coming from his skin. Her pulse quickened as he traced along her lip and pulled back to show her the smear of red.

With almost gentle force, he pressed it between her lips back into her mouth and along her tongue.

She didn't think about it, refused to respond.

"No great mystery where you stand, though. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was trying not to see it." He smiled, all wicked derision. "Maybe he just likes his women a little more… midget sized."

The taunt stung where his earlier attempts hadn't and she couldn't help but give him the reaction he was after. She struggled, wrenching her head away from his touch, arms coming up to push at his chest.

"T-That's not—"

"_Not what_?"

Catching her wrist, he twisted, whirling her around and compelling her headlong into the wall, his forearm coming up against her shoulders to pin her in place.

Her diaphragm constricted with the sharp almost-pain of his fingers twisting her wrist, forcing the air from her lungs as the first prickle of real fear took control.

Towering over her easily, the hollow molded into the curve of her back, letting her feel the weight of his body, his voice a low growl. "Not true?" The hold tightened and he gave her a little shake. "You're right, it's not."

Then, taking her by surprise, he grabbed a handful of her, pulled her head back and kissed her.

She struggled.

Not wanting to play this game, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, Orihime tried to pry herself from his grasp. He strengthened his hold on her wrist and smoothly trapped the other.

Wrenching them both behind her back, he opened his mouth wider over hers, using the leverage to dominate her without pity. The tip of his tongue found the cut on her lip and traced it, finally sucking it into his mouth and biting down to renew the wound.

With a groan, he pulled her even closer, pressing into the curve of her backside.

Orihime jerked, her body flooded with too many sensations. It burned. Everywhere he touched ignited into a swirling blaze of fire and lightning. Her wrists. Her back. Her mouth.

He swallowed her gasp, grinding against her harder and using one hand to shackle her wrists, freeing the other. Orihime strained, body arching, moaning as his hand raked across her stomach, up to grasp a heavy breast.

She couldn't breathe. The room was too hot, his dark presence at her back stifling.

His thumb searched for her nipple, and with a growl working up the back of his throat from down deep in his chest, he wrenched up her shirt and dove his fingers inside. They scored across her flesh, searing, burning trails on her stomach, dragging over her ribs, then darting up to push her bra up and out of the way.

A whimper tore from her throat as he squeezed, flicked at her nipple, and she arched against his attack as his fingers dug into soft flesh. Orihime cried out against his mouth and he growled again, biting and licking her lips, marking them while his fingers marked her body.

When he broke the kiss, Orihime gasped, pulling air back into her lungs, feeling him against her back like a second skin.

He tightened his hold.

"You're going to stop avoiding Ichigo."

Her lashes fluttered with the effort to make sense of what he was saying.

"You won't tell him about any of this and you won't so much as breathe in that tramp's direction."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Orihime shook her head.

"Nevermind. You'll figure it out."

()()()

He was watching her again.

Orihime could feel it, but she didn't dare turn to look.

It had been an entire week since "the incident". Kisumi had transferred schools, and Orihime had decided that she would keep to the hollow's rules for the time being.

It was selfish, maybe, probably even cowardly. But even as she thought it, that subtle dark riatsu whispered through the room, flowing just under Ichigo's, and she thought it was a justifiable concession. Especially if it would keep her friends safe, since Orihime didn't doubt that the hollow would strike out to keep what little freedom it'd gained.

So she could wait. And when the time was right, or if it just had to be done, she would go to Urahara or the vizards. But until then, except for the occasional bruise or mark that had to be rejected away, it wasn't such a hard secret to keep.

.

.

.

**A/N**

**See? Told you it was random.**

**K, I'm trying my hardest to catch upon all the requests on my plate. So if you have something I'm supposed to be working on, have no fear. It will happen. I just don't know when. :)**

**Review? XD**


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